


An Anchor for the Storm

by lauz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Boners, Bajang, Boys Kissing, Derek Hale Comforts Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale Has a Crush on Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale is a good friend, Derek is a Softie, European Folklore, Family Guy - Freeform, First Kiss, Folklore, Frottage, Getting Together, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I googled this ok, Laura Hale (Mentioned) - Freeform, M/M, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Morning After, Neck Kissing, POV Derek, Polish Stiles Stilinski, Polski | Polish, Scent Marking, Sharing a Bed, Sheriff Stilinski Knows About Werewolves, Star Wars References, Stiles Stilinski Speaks Polish, Stiles Stilinski is Derek Hale's Anchor, Stiles Stilinski is Eighteen Years Old, Summer storms, Werewolves, laura loved star wars, minor smut, psotnik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 12:24:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15685380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lauz/pseuds/lauz
Summary: Derek's the only person Stiles can turn to.





	An Anchor for the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> This kind of came from nowhere but I like it and it's the longest thing I've written in a good few years. I'm obsessed with Derek & Stiles just pillow talking and kissing and being dorky idiots.

Derek didn’t expect Stiles to turn up at his door at three in the morning during the worst thunderstorm of the summer, he could hear the younger boy’s uneven heart beat and sour scent before he even opened the door. He doesn’t look at Derek, just clutches his pillow tightly to his chest. They’re both soaking wet, Derek stands aside and ushers him in quickly.

They don’t speak but Derek can smell the bitterness of tears on Stiles’ face, he fetches a dry pillow and some comforters, setting them down next to Stiles in a neatly folded ] pile on the couch. He gives the younger boy some space, sitting far enough to do that but not too far incase he needs him.

Stiles sniffles a few moments later, “I - I’m sorry to barge in like this, my dad’s away for a few days and th - the weather - it’s my mom’s - mom’s anniversary…”

The cracked sound of his voice is enough to shatter Derek’s heart, he can’t stop reaching out and covering the younger boy’s hand with his own. Stiles practically flinches at the contact, Derek moves as quick as he can but the other boy lets out a small whine, baring a little of his neck, inviting the wolf back in. 

“It’s okay don’t worry,” Derek says softly thumbing over his knuckles and trying his best to calm the howling wolf in his chest, “Do you want to change?”

He takes in Stiles’ appearance for the first time since he arrived, he’s wearing grey sweatpants and a threadbare Green Day shirt that looks older than Stiles himself, his hair matted to his forehead and tear tracks stain his face. 

Stiles jumps as a deafening strike of thunder crashes over the loft, followed by a quick bright crack of lightening that illuminates the loft. 

“No, no I’m okay, thanks,” He rubs he tears from his eyes with the heel of his hands before looking up at Derek, red circles enclosing his eyes. 

“But Stiles, you’re soaked!” Derek protests smoothly, “Would you like to shower and have some hot cocoa?”

“You’ve got hot cocoa?” Stiles can’t help the minuscule smirk that overtakes his features and Derek’s heart speeds up a little at his teasing tone.

He smiles and rolls his eyes, “Yes, I have cocoa, so a cup and a hot shower?”

“If - if that’s okay?” Stiles goes shy again, a cold tremble overtaking his body, he wraps his arms around himself and the pillow, squeezing it close, “I - uh, m-my top. It’s - It’s mom’s.”

“I’ll put your clothes and pillow in the drier for the morning, don’t worry.” 

Again Stiles relaxes slightly at his words, Derek is thankful for that as he leads him into the bathroom, leaving a large grey towel and a spare pair of boxers and sweats to change into. Stiles thanks him, still avoiding eye contact but twists his neck in a way it’s bared for him again, and it makes Derek’s wolf want nothing more than to protect and care for Stiles. Instead, he continues to shove the feeling down and brushes his knuckles down the bared part of Stiles’ neck, yet again covering him in Derek’s scent. He feels the younger boy shiver against his touch, using all of the effort in him to ignore it and not scoop Stiles into his arms and kiss the all of his pain away, Derek turns to the shower to put it on and then stepping away to let Stiles undress. Once he’s in the shower, Derek grabs the sweats, pillow and shirt from the toilet lid and heads for the kitchen.

There’s quiet crying coming from the shower, Derek can hear it so faintly over the water pitter patting against the bottom of the bathtub. Feeling his heart clench and tighten ninety degrees in his chest, Derek forces himself to tune it out and not listen - if Stiles wants to talk he will. He stuffs Stiles’ things into the drier and turns it on for half an hour, letting the noise cover any from the bathroom. 

Derek finds one of Laura’s old Star Wars mugs - that changes colour or something that meant she’d had to have it right there and then - he’d saved from their apartment in New York, hidden in the back of the cupboard. He thinks that Stiles will appreciate it right now and it makes him flash a small grin to himself, he puts the cocoa mix in both mugs and puts a saucepan on the stove to warm the milk.

A few minutes later, his ears prick over the boisterousness of drier to the little beeping sound the shower makes when it’s shutting off and the milk just beginning to bubble. Derek sprinkles a half teaspoon of sugar in each mug, pouring the warm liquid straight from the pan into the mixtures, stirring each mug a few times. 

Derek takes the two mugs into the living room placing Stiles’ onto a placemat on coffee table and then taking a large sip of his. He waits awkwardly, literally on the edge of his seat for Stiles, he appears a few moments later wearing Derek’s boxers and sweatpants, they’re baggy in all the wrong places but they’ll do for until his are dry in the morning. The younger boy slumps down next to him, resting his head against his shoulder as Derek passes him the mug from the table. It warms Derek’s heart that he feels comfortable enough to be so open with him, he eyes him from the side as he sips from his mug. It almost tastes like how his Grandma used to make it, minus the marshmallows. 

“Do you want to talk?” Derek whispers moving to run his fingers up and down the other boys arm, another scent mark, Stiles visibly relaxes under the movement, before shaking his head from Derek’s shoulder, taking an awkward a sip from Laura’s mug, “That’s ok.”

“I can’t believe you have a Star Wars mug,” Stiles says almost nonchalantly, both his thumbs brushing over the centre as he stares at the logo.

“S’Laura’s,” Derek utters more to himself, “I thought it’d make you smile. Or the very least, give you a reason to tease me.”

Stiles can’t help the soft chuckle under his breath and the sound continues to warm Derek throughout, “Thanks, it means a lot.”

They fall into a comfortable silence and Derek flicks the TV on, trying to find something decent to watch to put on as background noise. He flicks aimlessly until he lands on Family Guy, he feels Stiles perk up a bit on his shoulder so he leaves it on for the younger boy to watch. Derek lifts his arm over Stiles’ head so he can slide under, which he does and Derek can’t help but bite the inside of his cheek at the shade of pink Stiles blushes. The younger boy tries to hide it by pulling a comforter over himself, practically thrusting his reddened face into Derek’s ribs.  
“Ca - Can you stay…With me?” Stiles mumbles when the adverts come on, muffled by his attempt to nestle himself deeper into Derek, “I’ll take th’floor an’ you can stay on th’couch?”

Derek feels his heart break, using his free hand again to run up and down Stiles’ naked spine under the blanket, he tries to push down the words in his throat but he just can’t, “Y’could sleep in my bed…If you want. With me. Or just you. I - It’s up to you.” 

Stiles pulls back from Derek’s side, his caramel eyes soften as his heart beat thumps against Derek’s delicate ears, “I - I mean, I don’t wanna put you out…”

“You’re not!” Derek cuts off too quickly, “I promise, Stiles.”

The younger boy nods his eyes still not quite meeting the older man’s, “Okay. Can I? With you?”

Derek nods wrapping Stiles’ slightly smaller hand in his own again, “Now?”

“M’gettin’ sleepy, finally,” Stiles yawns, Derek chuckles and takes the half mug of cooling cocoa from him placing it back on the coaster. He’ll deal with it in the morning.

Stiles shrugs off the towel and kicks the comforter from off of his legs as the older man turns the tv off, he releases Derek so he can tug them both faintly toward his bedroom, up the spiral stairway with Stiles trailing slowly behind in nothing but Derek’s boxers. Stiles lets his hand fall from Derek’s as they enter his en suite bathroom, Derek rummages around in a drawer for a toothbrush for a few moments. He finally finds it with a loud more than necessary “ah ha!” that makes the younger boy bark out a giggle as he takes it from Derek’s outstretched hand, shaking his head with a small grin lingering on his features.

They brush their teeth together, it’s only a little bit clumsy when they both try to spit over the minuscule sink. They end up in a fit of laughter, playfully pushing each other out of the way with white toothpaste flying out of both of their mouths. Derek can’t help but scent mark him again, their scents finally beginning to mingle together, it sends his wolf spiralling into another internal howling fit, pawing at the surface.

When he finishes cleaning up the mess in the bathroom and taking a leak, he finds Stiles perching on the corner of the bed in just Derek’s boxers trying not to stare at Derek too obviously while he undresses for bed. The older man ignores the heat rising on his face and neck, it’s just Stiles, he tries to remind himself. Lying to himself that this isn’t any different from when they’ve fought bad guys and demons side by side and Derek’s as always somehow ended up pretty much clothes-less.

“Get into bed, Stiles, make yourself at home,” Derek suggests, stepping out of his black sweatpants and reaching for the light switch, “I uh, I can’t sleep in sweats. Werewolf super heating thing. I hope that’s okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, ‘course Der,” Stiles mumbles looking stupidly up at the ceiling before pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, illuminated by the bedside light, “Feels weird. To be laughing. When today. Is - Is today. Y’know?”

“C’Mere,” Derek says, crawling into bed in nothing but his tight fitted boxers, “It’s okay, it’s okay to laugh, you can’t beat yourself up about that.”  
The older boy manages get Stiles under the comforter and pulled tight against his chest, spooning him from behind as he rubs his nose against the base of his neck. Another scent mark, Stiles shivers and tries to wriggle impossibly closer. His thick ass rubs up against Derek’s boxer clad dick, he bites his lip and his hips twitch to retaliate and rub back, but Derek manages to catch himself before he does something stupid, his arm tightening protectively around Stiles’ waist.

He counters by rubbing his pointed nose against Derek’s arm, pressing a small sleepy kiss to his wrist. The older man’s slender fingers find their way into Stiles’ hair, scratching his scalp delicately. He lets out a loud groan, shifting back against Derek’s dick again. The motion stirs a feeling in his cock he tries to push down, scrunching his eyes shut and trying to wiggle away without disturbing a groaning Stiles.

“Mmm,” He hums, “That feels so nice, Derek.”

Derek grins, pressing an open mouthed kiss behind Stiles’ ear. The spice of the two of them together over the course of the night makes Derek feel burning hot and tingly all over, he inhales the potent scent deeply, swallowing the satisfied growl his wolf is trying to claw its way out of his throat. 

Suddenly, Stiles rolls to face him, so close they’re breathing each other in. Derek can feel his even breaths tickle his lips as Stiles looks up at him through thick, black lashes, his heart beat picking up. Derek reaches to run his knuckles over his cheek, he can’t help the way his eyes soften.

“I just, uh, wanted to stay thanks,” Stiles looks away momentarily but his eyes soon come back to Derek, “The - the storm. My dad’s working away, helping with some supernatural thing in LA. It’s Mom’s anniversary, he couldn’t get back this weekend. The storm. He called earlier but was cut off. And Scott’s busy, he’s finally got alone time with Allison so I told him to focus on her.” 

“You don’t have to explain to me,” Derek says gently, a broad hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. 

“But I trust you, y’know?” Stiles whispers as if to himself, “You like talk me down from that ledge, or mostly just by sitting there with your spectacular non-judging murder brows.” 

“Like an anchor?” Derek says suddenly but so delicately he isn’t sure if Stiles actually heard it at all.

“Yeah, like an anchor,” His voice hoarse all of a sudden, like he’s not used it in a few hours. Derek pulls him tenderly into his chest, pressing a thoughtful kiss to the top of his damp head before tucking him safely under his chin. Stiles’ hair wetting his face slightly.

The feeling doesn’t stop them both tumbling into a comfortable sleep, even with the bedside light on. 

When Derek opens his eyes the next morning, Stiles is sprawled across his chest snoring softly and there’s a wee drool puddle accumulating on him, their legs are intertwined so tightly he’s not sure where he starts and Stiles ends. The older man’s heart beats a little faster at the sight, the smell of his own arousal spiking in the air as the sun peaks through the blinds illuminating Stiles’ captivating creamy skin, he looks almost angelic. His lengthy fingers reaching to flow through Stiles’ soft springy hair that’s now fully dried and sticking up at odd angles, scratching his scalp gently, Stiles lets out a small breathy moan. The vibration goes straight to Derek’s dick, he forces the feeling down and scratches the back of his head, dipping to tickle the back of his neck. 

It makes Stiles stir tenderly and Derek’s heart skips a beat, running his fingers back down the younger boy’s neck. Hes met with bright brown eyes when they flutter open to look at him, a small sleepy smile overtakes his features. Derek smiles back, sweeping his thumb over Stiles’ cheek gingerly. 

“Mmm, that feels good Der,” Stiles hums breathily against him, and Derek’s dick twitches back to life, he wills the boner to deflate before Stiles notices it. But it’s short lived as Stiles let’s his arm fall further down Derek’s body to clutch him closer by the hips, his eyes snap open and widen at the feeling of Derek’s hard cock against his arm. 

“S-Sorry,” Derek flushes closing his eyes, he can feel his ears pinking with embarrassment, “I’ve not - I didn’t mean… Shit.”

“S’Natural,” Stiles croons with a half shrug against Derek’s body, nimble fingers tracing over the exposed part of his hip, “No biggie, Big Guy.”

“That’s - that’s not helping,” Derek grits out, his eyes still shut painfully as he tips the hip Stiles is touching further into him, the younger boy seems to understand and stops the movements. 

Then he hears Stiles fucking laugh, at the situation. Derek lets out a small huff of laughter as well, his hand falling to cover Stiles’ face playfully.

“Hey!” He protests with a fake pout, trying to swat Derek’s giant paw-for-a-hand away, “Stop it!”

Stiles is full on belly-laughing now and Derek can’t help the warm feeling that floods his veins, his heart feel’s like it’s going to jump out of his throat. 

“You’re like a cat,” Derek snickers, avoiding the swipes of the younger boy’s hands by dangling his hand in the air before swooping back in to ruffle his hair. 

“Maybe that’s my full-moon power,” Stiles muses still trying to catch Derek’s quick extremities, “I’m secretly a Werecat, like a less dead and murder-y Bajang or something.”

“But Stiles… you’re not Malaysian?” Derek barks out a laugh so fierce he startles Stiles from his position

“My mom and my babcia used to call me their little Psotnik,” Stiles smiles fondly at the memory before clearing his throat, “It’s Polish folklore, a mischievous elf with wings and a hella weird mouth. Mieczysław, Mischief. You get it. My dad could never say it right, babcia said it’s because he’s not from the old country.”

Derek melts at the thoguht, “I’ve got a book about European folklore with a few chapter about them and other Polish supernaturals in it, if you’re interested.”

“Are you serious! That’d be so cool,” Stiles brightens like a the thousand watt bulb, “It makes me feel like I’m still close to her, y’know?”

“I get it,” Derek says softly, stroking over his cheek again.

Stiles catches the inside of his arm with his warm lips, Derek tips his head for the younger boy to come closer to his face, his blood thrumming violently against his veins, he can hear the beat of his own heart in his ears. Stiles manages to wriggle up next to him and when they’re eye level, they both lean in to press their lips together, Stiles whines as he paws at Derek’s face pulling him so close their bodies are totally flush together. 

The older man licks into his mouth, it’s filthy as their tongues meet. Derek rolls his hips, meeting Stiles’ midway before he lets out a nasty groan, separating their mouths momentarily resting his forehead against Derek’s and panting against his lips. The noise that comes out of his open mouth is obscene when the older boy rolls his hips again, and Derek decided he wants to hear that noise everyday forever, his dick is hard and pulsing readily against his boxers. He can feel the tip of his dick leaking pre-cum with every pant and mewl Stiles breathes into his mouth. 

He wants to make Stiles cum like this, in his boxers and the thick scent of arousal and Derek coming off of him. Derek’s breath hitches as Stiles kneads his hands into his butt and quickly moves to dig his nails into the bottom of his back. 

“Der - Der, fuck,” Stiles moans, throwing his head backward, Derek’s hip stutter forward, rubbing deliciously against the younger boy’s swollen dick, “St-St-Stop. We gotta -“

The other man stills immediately, pulling back hard, he looks at Stiles’ briefly. His hair is even more dishevelled, his lips swollen and an enticing shade of pink. Derek’s denies to himself that his mouth waters as his eyes meet Stiles’ heavy lidded, blown out whiskey coloured ones. 

“I’m sorry - I, I’m sorry,” Derek grits out as he pulls himself up and crossing his legs and dropping his head into his hands, “I shouldn’t - We shouldn’t, Sorry, fuck, Stiles I’m so sorry.”

“Hey no, I’m shutting that down right now,” Stiles says sternly, joining him in a sitting position and touching his knee, “I want to, I really want to. Like really, really. I have for a while. Okay years. But I just gotta pee, big guy.”

“Oh,” Derek mumbles from behind his hands, there was no trace of a lie, “That’s - That’s better. A lot better.”

Stiles laughs so hard he snorts, “Hey, I appreciate it. I appreciate everything, especially last night. I really mean it.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Derek smiles, suddenly feeling sheepish, “C’mon, go pee and I’ll make breakfast.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! let me know :)


End file.
